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Old 03-22-2008, 03:31 AM   #150
mark12_30
Stormdancer of Doom
 
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Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars
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The trickle, leaving the cleft of the rock and flowing over the cold earth, joins another just down the hill, and another below that. We sleep on a garden of mountain-springs. Below us lies a dell, with a little pool; and below that lies another like it, and on down the hillsides. Roheryn drinks at one of them now.

Ravion heard Mellonin saying it. Amroth heard Avarien. Ravion wondered; Amroth rejoiced. He reached out with his longing. He could not sense her presence-- not as he once did; yet he knew she was on the hillsides, below them, along this very stream. A single tear flowed down Amroth's face, then another, and then a third. She is near. She is near. She is near. His heart beat to the rythm of it.

He called to her; Nimrodel, Nimrodel. She did not answer. He had called so often and she had not answered. He would learn why when they were face to face.

Instead, he turned his thoughts to the stream, and joined it. Small and simple, he trickled from the rock to the cold earth below, and with a tiny shimmer, flowed over the soil. Southward, southward, the pull of the earth drew him over pebble and sand, moss and grass. Another joined him, and they flowed over rock and earth; they rested, swirling, in a shallow basin, and then ran out the southward side, over roots, and more moss, spreading into the littlest fen, and then once again finding the way downhill.

And over every root and rock and crevice the longing of the sweet water was: I will join the sea. I will join the sea. I will join the sea.
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